


Juvenile Behavior

by am_bellanoire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe, Baby Bellatrix, F/F, Family Drama, Fluff and Humor, Insecurity, No Smut, Potions Accident, Teenage Bella
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 12:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/am_bellanoire/pseuds/am_bellanoire
Summary: Is age really nothing but a number? Some say yes, some say no. But with yet another birthday come and gone, furthering widening the already impressive age gap between she and her lover, Bellatrix decides to settle the dispute once and for all.





	Juvenile Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline doesn't really follow the epilogue as far as the Next-Gen characters' ages go. The War was about 10 years ago. For the story's sake, Bella is about 26 years older than Hermione. Oh yeah, and Tonks and Fred never died. Not sorry. The miracle of fan fiction.

_**Juvenile Behavior** _

**I**

The party was in full swing. The house, usually occupied by two, was currently filled with hearty conversation, peals of ringing laughter, and surged with erratic movement. It was a _joyous_ occasion, everyone in attendance there to support and celebrate.

To say Bellatrix was overwhelmed by all the fanfare would have been a sorry understatement. And the party was her own. But as the saying went, it was her birthday and she could sulk in the peaceful isolation of the sun room if she bloody well wanted to.

Fifty five years. A half century _plus_ half a decade. It was hard to believe she had lived so long. Granted, the average life expectancy for a healthy witch or wizard could reach upwards of a hundred and fifty years, but considering her...'former lifestyle', it was miraculous she had survived long enough to even be exasperated at present.

She had her wife to thank for that, of course. Well, no Hermione wasn't her wife. Not yet. Or _ever_ , if she didn't pluck up the sodding courage and ask for her hand. They had been official - whatever that meant - for going on six years now, had lived together for five. To the Pureblood, it seemed marriage should be the next step. The proper thing to do. But she never felt pressured to propose, not even after Hermione's best friends were married off one after the next and started their families. The two of them had settled into their own strange sort of domestic bliss that was unlike anything Bellatrix had ever seen, experienced, or thought could exist. They were, dare she say, happy even without rings and vows exchanged.

Still, something about it bothered her.

"What are you doing sitting out here by yourself?" As if summoned by mere thought alone or a cleverly silent 'Accio', Hermione appeared before her, slightly flushed of face, her brows furrowed in concern, with one child slung over her right hip and another wrapped around her left leg like a toothy tendril of devil's snare.

The first child was the platinum haired son of her nephew, Draco and his wife, Astrid. Or was it Agnes? Alice? A- _something_ , formerly Greengrass. Their son Scorpius was three and three quarters - or so he liked to proudly proclaim whenever asked, or sometimes without prompt- and was the spitting image of his father. The other was the two year old daughter, and second child, of her niece, Nymphadora and her lycanthropy infected husband, Remus Lupin - or Wolfy as Bellatrix affectionately called him just to be annoying. Like her mother and older brother, little Phoenix was born a metamorphmagus and was currently sporting a headful of bubblegum pink curls. Cute, but the dark witch thought Slytherin green would have been _far_ more fetching.

The fact that she was staring at the grandchildren of her two younger sisters somehow made Bellatrix even more glum. Had it not been for all the hard work her other half put into this little shindig, she would have called the thing off an hour ago. But as it was, she always found it hard to protest as soon as her eyes locked on to a pair of hazels set into a peaches and cream face, made to sparkle with the aid of an easy, wickedly disarming smile.

Such was the case now.

"Oh, just taking a breather," Bellatrix muttered with a wry smirk, "I'm not as young as I used to be, pet."

Thankfully the words didn't come out as bitter as she felt.

Shaking her head, the brunette pulled Bellatrix to her feet and pressed a kiss to her cheek, making the children giggle raucously.

It took nearly all of the former Death Eater's self restraint not to bare her teeth and snap at the little ankle biters. She didn't much care for children, could hardly remember being one herself. Never mind the admonishments from Cissy and Andy that she could be an immature brat at times and they had no idea how Hermione put up with her for so long. All three of them had been reared in a time when children were seen and not heard, with a mother who wouldn't know a maternal instinct if it hexed her in the face. Bellatrix could only wonder how her sisters had gotten so good with the mummy and grandmummy thing. She'd never wanted to be one. Not really.

Shrieks of delighted laughter derailed the dark witch's train of thought and she focused once more on her lover who had flipped Scorpius around in her arms and was peppering his cheeks, forehead, and nose with sloppy kisses. "You think we're funny, do you? You think your aunties are funny?" she playfully taunted the toddler, setting him down to reach for Phoenix, who received the same assault, plus raspberries blown into her navel, making the girl scream and giggle just as loudly as her cousin had moments before.

Hermione seemed to have a knack for the little ones too, Bellatrix had noticed, despite the fact that she was the only one of her friends who was currently childless.

It was something else for the older witch to ponder like with the whole marriage thing. Did Hermione want children? They had never spoken about it in length. Not even when they babysat for Potter and Ginny or the Weasle and his wife, named for some shade of purple, or looked after that odd girl Looney's twin sons. Merlin's saggy balls, there were so many children. And for some reason, despite her prickly demeanor and horrifying past, they all seemed to be just as smitten with her as they were with Hermione.

Her hair was their _favorite_ play thing.

"Come on, love,"Hermione coaxed, resuming the tugging on her wrist, "We're just about to bring out the cake. You know you love chocolate cake."

"Cake!"

" _Cake_!"

" _Shock_ -oh-late cake!"

"I want a big piece!"

The children shot off like two sticky fingered Bludgers, heading for the living room where the rest of the little ones and their parents were.

Bellatrix allowed herself to be pulled into Hermione's embrace, sighing softly at the feel of soft lips at the column of her throat. The clever little witch knew just the spots to aim for to get the responses she desired.

"You've got presents too, waiting to be opened," Hermione said casually and Bellatrix could feel the smile against her skin, "You'll have to wait until later to open mine but I _promise_ it'll be worth it."

Arousal flared at the words and Bellatrix was left to wonder when her pet became such a minx.

"We'll have to settle for birthday cake for now though," Hermione went on as if unaware of the affect she was having on the witch in her arms. But of course she wasn't. She knew her lover very well.

"Is it that devil's food cake?" Bellatrix asked stepping away lest she do something rather drastic like pin Hermione to the nearest wall and demand her 'present' now, party guests be damned.

"The most devilish," was the witty retort coupled with a cheeky wink that let the older know they were both on the same page, and Bellatrix finally allowed herself to be brought back into the noisy living room.

She _did_ love chocolate cake after all.

The party ended later, rather than sooner, and Hermione had to nudge her in the ribs a couple of times whenever one of her teasing remarks crossed the line to insult. But everyone in attendance was well familiar with Bellatrix's acerbic way of letting others know when she was fed up with something. So no feelings were actually hurt. Though Ron's ears did go red once or twice at the former Death Eater's insistence on calling his wife, Lilac. Other than that, the party was a success.

The children, coming down from their sugar rushes, were rounded up by their respective parents and the guests began to depart. Narcissa and Andromeda were the last to leave, giving their older sister final birthday wishes and showering Hermione with the immense gratitude they always seemed to express during family gatherings.

It made Bellatrix roll her eyes as it would have been _far_ more genuine just to say, "Thank you so much _again_ for rehabiltating our darling deranged sister and saving her from losing the rest of her mind locked up in Azkaban. Thank you for restoring the light we always knew was there - even if we didn't really show it. It means the _world_ to us that you can still love her despite the fact that she maimed and tortured innocent people, including you and your friends. We can never _ever_ repay you." After all, surely that _must_ have been what they were thinking during those dramatic farewells that always seemed to see Cissy reaching for her silk handkerchief and Andy hugging her sister-in-law to be - _maybe_ \- for far longer than necessary.

But it was easy to forget about all of that for the time being, with the house empty and Hermione doing the last of the tidying up downstairs. Bellatrix stood in the bathroom, using her wand to dry her hair after what was supposed to have been a relaxing soak in the tub. She didn't want to think of her sisters now, not when she was gazing at her reflection in the mirror, realizing how much the years had changed her.

There were lines by her eyes and mouth that seemed far more pronounced than they had been yesterday. And the graying roots and strands in her hair seemed so much more stark in contrast to the natural black. Salazar, she had _aged_. Spending nearly fifteen years in a small, filthy cell having your every hope, dream, and happy thought no matter how few sucked out of you by Dementors would do that. So too would the stresses that came with fighting in two wars on the wrong side of things. For Merlin's sake what would have become of her had the Ministry not seen fit to include her in their rehabilitation program that eventually allowed her to experience love, real love, for the first time?

She shuddered to think.

At least her teeth had been restored. Thanks to Hermione and the parents she had managed to locate. The Muggle procedure had been quite ghastly and rather painful, but it had helped resurrect at least _some_ of her former beauty.

Vanity had never really been one of her faults. Bellatrix had had far too much to focus on in the past to very much care what she looked like. Everything, all of her energy, had went to the cause. But now, well now, the cause was dead, the wizarding world had changed, her sins had been pardoned, she was in a stable relationship, and couldn't help but notice with each passing day, she was slowly but surely wasting away. And the near thirty year age gap between she and her lover seemed to grow ever wider with every birthday she was all but forced to celebrate.

It wasn't that she considered herself ugly. No, no amount of wrinkles and gray hair could possibly do that. But her beauty had faded along with her youth. And Hermione was so much younger. What's not to say that in a few years time she might grow tired of being seen with a witch old enough to be her bloody mother.

There was no Muggle tooth healer that could fix that.

Which is why Bellatrix was going to resort to magical means.

Hair now fully dry, she set down her wand, trading it for a small corked vial. The potion within was silver and iridescent, with a mother of pearl sheen that caught the light at each angle as she turned the glass cylinder over and over in her hand.

The squat, grubby looking wizard in Knockturn Alley had been rather clear in his instructions for the potion. Just a one drop would turn back the hands of time a full ten years. Naturally skeptical, Bellatrix had demanded he prove it. She had not been expecting him to sample it himself. Fully prepared to see the old codger fall to the cracked cobblestoned road, poisoned by his own crackpot wares, the formerly nefarious witch had been astounded to see the wizard sprout nearly a foot, the white of his hair slowly darken to a dirty blond, and the wrinkles in his face iron themselves out in a matter of minutes.

"Quite safe, I can assure you," he had crowed, going so far as to hold his arms out and turn 'round on the spot, "So what do you say, can I tempt you pretty lady?"

"How long does it last?" Bellatrix had asked, purposely killing time, waiting to see evidence of any negative side effects.

"As long as you want it to. One drop a week is all you need and you'll be as young as a spring rose bud."

Bellatrix wasn't stupid. She had been the brightest witch of her age before He Who Proved To Be Mortal Afterall had exploited her smarts, utilizing them to carry out his obscene deeds, and Hermione snatched the title. She knew such magic couldn't possibly be permanent. But in the near hour she had allowed to go by, pretending to ponder on making the purchase, she realized that in the event she _did_ end up poisoned, she would have more than enough time to swallow a bezoar if she needed to.

And the affects of the potion certainly were appealing. Even if it _was_ temporary, it was certainly no Elixir of Life, perhaps she would feel better. Surely Hermione would appreciate it.

Her mind made up, Bellatrix uncorked the vial and brought it to her lips. Out with the old, in with the youth. Or something of that nature.

"Bella? Are you still in there?" Hermione's disembodied voice carried through the heavy wooden door, "Can I join you?"

Bloody hell, her 'present'. She had almost forgotten about the salacious little promise her lover had made her earlier that day. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the brass knob slowly turn and in one panicked heartbeat, Bellatrix downed the contents of the entire vial in one swallow.

Casting a silent 'Evanesco', the vial disappeared just as Hermione entered the bathroom.

"Hello birthday girl," she greeted with a smile, "Not too tuckered out are you?"

Allowing an indolent smile to tug at the corners of her lips, Bellatrix shook her head, her curls spilling over her shoulders. "No, not at all."

"Good, now come open your present," the words muttered in a low tone that made the dark witch purr softly.

Ignoring the odd, burning sensation coating her middle, Bellatrix followed her lover out of the en suite and into the bed chamber proper. A trail of red and white rose petals led to the king sized four poster that sat in the room's center, the drapes drawn back. The room was dimly light by candles, perfuming the air with essences of sweet pea and vanilla. The former Gryffindor came a stop at the foot of the bed, dressed in a form fitting blush colored satin negligee that left nothing to the imagination, one hand outstretched so that Bellatrix could catch the glint of something silver, teasingly twirling around her index finger.

"Happy birthday, Bella."


End file.
